


A Life Less Ordinary

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29725821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: Din’s pretty sure Boba’s bike shop is a front for some kind of criminal activity. There’s no other way someone like Fennec would agree to be co-owner on a small motorcycle repair business like it’s always been a dream of hers. Come to think of it, the same applies to Boba.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 218





	A Life Less Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh. This takes place in that [modern au](https://vagrantblvrd.tumblr.com/tagged/modern-au-idea) of mine where Din meets Luke and then shenanigans? (The one were Din later gets it in his head that Luke killed a man and is on the run from the law. As you do.)
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Din’s pretty sure Boba’s bike shop is a front for some kind of criminal activity. There’s no other way someone like Fennec would agree to be co-owner on a small motorcycle repair business like it’s always been a dream of hers. Come to think of it, the same applies to Boba.

Also, the fact that Boba’s never pretended he left the glamorous life of being a bounty hunter behind. The man has a Rolodex – an honest to God Rolodex – he keeps in a locked cabinet in his office of friend and contacts he made when he was an active bounty hunter.

Boba still gets calls from some of them to keep him up to date on things, and every once in a while one of them ask for a favor.

If pressed, Boba say he’s semi-retired, now. Too old to keep up with the fresh blood tracking down bail jumpers and the other scum of the world or whatever it is he likes to say. 

( _Bad back and bad knees and one too many close calls. And anyway, Din, bikes won’t pull a knife on you or try to smash your head in unless you’re doing something very wrong._ )

Still, Din owes a lot to Boba. They’ve known one another for years, back when Boba looked after Din when he was still new to the business. Introduced him around, helped him build trust with Boba’s most reliable contacts, saved his life a time or two.

When Din found Grogu – or maybe it was the other way around – Boba threw everything he had into making the adoption process as painless as possible for the two of them. Called in his own favors without thinking twice. The least Din can do is fill in when one of Boba’s people is out sick or dealing with personal matters.

Which is why Din’s watching the rain coming down outside, smack in the middle of the rainy season and no one in their right mind out in it. It’s been a long week between work and doing his best to keep up with Grogu.

A glance at the clock on the wall tells him it’s less than an hour until closing, and Boba’s never minded when Din shut the shop down a little early on slow days like this. The thought of getting home sooner than he expected runs right into that lump of guilt in Din’s gut, heavy and leaden, of not being there for Grogu as much as he wants to lately.

Din sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, tired and stupid with it, and actually has his hand on the sign to flip to over so it reads “closed” when he sees someone outside.

Din stares, mind unable to process what he’s looking at for far too long. 

Some poor bastard out in the rain, head down as they push a beast of a bike, making their way to the open garage.

 _No,_ Din thinks selfishly, guiltily. _C’mon, buddy, not today._

Unfortunately, it turns out the guy can’t read minds because he keeps going. Stubbornly determined as he gets his bike inside the garage and...stands there for a moment like he didn’t expect to make it.

Thunder rumbles over heard, lightning cracking through the sky soon afterward.

Din sighs under his breath, shoulders slumping. He can’t turn the guy out now, no way of knowing how long he was out there in the rain, and anyway, Din’s been there. He knows how it is.

He still flips the sign over though, because like hell is he going to let anyone else keep him from getting home at a decent hour tonight.

========

There’s a cabinet in the garage where they keep things like oil rags and towels, and it’s where Din heads first when he steps into the garage

“Sorry,” the guy says, sheepish note to his voice. “I know it’s late, I just wanted to get out of the rain.”

He laughs, this awkward little thing Din’s used to hearing from tenants at the apartment complex when they’ve managed to do the impossible yet again, and Din gets called in to fix whatever they’ve broken. Less rare from customers here, though. 

“It’s fine,” Din says, grabbing towels for the guy. “We’re open for couple hours yet.”

The guy doesn’t say anything to that, which is whatever, and when Din turns around he gets his first good look at him.

Looks like a drowned rat, soaked head to toe. Shivering a little, and he’s smiling. Tired. Cold. This side of miserable and still smiling.

Incredible.

Din raises an eyebrow at the guy as he pushes the towels in his hands. “Might want to dry off a little,” he says, and gets a confused look in return.

“Bathroom’s through that door down the hall. Second door on the left,” Din says, and points at the door in question. “I’ll be in the office getting the paperwork started, if you want me to take a look at your bike, that is.”

Another confused blink, and Din carefully doesn’t sigh. 

“ _Do_ you want me to take a look at your bike?” he asks. 

He wouldn’t put it past the guy to see somewhere dry where he could get out of the rain and not connect the dots at the time. And honestly, there’s still a part of him that wants to go home. 

It takes another moment, and the guy says, “Oh,” like he’s surprised by the question, and looks around the garage as though he just realized where he ended up. “ _Huh._ ”

There’s a long moment of silence as the guy stares at his bike.

“Yeah,” the guy says eventually, slow, like he’s trying to remember how words work. “That would be great, actually.”

He laughs, and it’s. 

It sounds like he’s had a hell of a day, is what it sounds like.

“Yeah, okay,” Din says, and making sure the guy sees it coming, places a hand on his elbow and gently guides him towards the bathroom. “Go dry off, I’ll see if there any blankets around here.”

========

As it turns out, there are.

Which makes sense, Din supposes, since Boba picks up all kinds to work in his shop. A few that stay on full time and others that work for him for a bit before they take off somewhere. Most of those don’t have anywhere else to stay, and Boba’s got a couch in his office and cots tucked away in the back room. 

Even better, there are clean clothes. 

Or, alright, overalls. Spare sets Boba’s people leave here in case there’s an incident and they get motor oil or worse on them. Should fit the guy, and if anyone minds, Din can always pay for a set. A little more looking around and Din finds a plastic shopping bag shoved in the back of a locker the guy can use to put his clothes in.

The guy pokes his head out of the bathroom when Din knocks on the door, hair sticking up where he managed to get the worst of the water off.

“Hey,” he says, and starts to apologize again. “Sorry I’m taking so long, I - “

“This should fit you,” Din cuts him off, holding the coveralls up for him to see. “They’re clean and no one will mind if you use them.”

He gets a frown, a slight tilt of the head.

“Um…” the guy says, surprised, confused, like he doesn’t understand the concept of common decency. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be trouble.” Awkward little laugh. “More than I've been already, I mean.”

Din stares at him for a long moment.

The guy gives Din an awkward smile to go with his awkward laugh.

“I’ll be in the office,” he says, and like he did with the towels, pushes the coveralls and shopping bag into the guy’s hands and leaves him to decide what to do.

========

The shop’s computers are a few years old and slow as hell. They also have a habit of crashing when someone needs to use them, so Din uses the time it takes the one at the front counter to reboot to get a pot of coffee going.

Maybe not the best idea this late in the day, but it’s hot and should help the guy warm up, even if he ends up holding it in his hands rather than drink it.

And then, like the genius he is, he pours himself a cup of coffee. Too late in the day for it, sure, but he’s tired and the caffeine will help with that. Long enough to deal with the guy and get back home, make dinner, and spend some time with his kid.

After a moment to think about it, cranks the heat up. Figures it won’t hurt for a couple of hours, and if Boba has a problem with it Din can just set Grogu on him.

“Is that coffee I smell?”

Din looks down at the cup in his hand, like he needs to double check to be sure (he kind of does when he’s tired like this), and turns around.

The first thing Din thinks is the guy looks good in the coveralls, which is actually amazing considering they're a hideous bright orange. The second thing is _oh, no_ , because he really shouldn’t be thinking something like that about a customer. The third is that he really shouldn’t have taken that sip of coffee after making sure that’s what was in his cup, because he chokes on it.

Coughs and hacks and is generally a mess while the guy looks startled, and then concerned. Stays put, though, when Din raises a hand and wheezes out a strangled “I’m okay, I’m fine,” another bought of coughing. “And yes, it is. You can grab a cup if you want.”

Shockingly, the guy doesn’t go for the coffee machine right away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, like he doesn’t trust Din’s judgment on that count. Which is fair, but not something a complete stranger would know anything about even if he’s right to be concerned, and anyway. 

Din nods as he sets his cup down on the counter to avoid further embarrassing himself. “I’m fine,” he says, and since he doesn’t sound like he’s about to die this time, the guy nods.

Looks like he’s still worried about Din and his decision making skills in regard to his own well-being, but seems content to leave things be for the moment.

“Okay,” he says, and gives the coffee machine a longing look, which Din really shouldn’t find as endearing as he does.

“It’s for customers,” Din points out, what with the coffee machine being on the other side of the counter and all. 

The guy laughs, quiet little thing, and goes to get coffee. 

The computer finishes booting up by the time he’s at the counter. It’s still sluggish, but doesn’t seem in danger of crashing again as Din brings up the right programs, grabbing a blank form from the stack under the counter and a pen that looks like it’s been through the wringer but still works fine.

They go through the usual questions, information, and by the end of it the guy – Luke – looks better than when he first got there. Doesn’t look as pale, washed out, and the pinched look is gone.

He’s holding on to his coffee like a lifeline though, so once Din’s got everything he needs when it comes to the paperwork and Luke hands over his keys, Din waves him toward the couch and the blankets he dug out earlier.

“Stay here and get warm,” he says, more firmly than he really should, but thankfully Luke doesn’t call him on it. Laughs at it, sure, but he doesn’t say anything. “I'll be back once I get a look at your bike.”

Luke grins at him as he gives Din a jaunty two-finger salute – _laughing at him_ \- and oh, God, the man has _dimples_.

========

It doesn’t take long for Din to figure out what’s wrong with Luke’s bike. Bad part, defective. A small crack they’re lucky to have caught before it got much bigger, could have been more dangerous than Luke’s bike breaking down on the road.

The problem is that Luke’s bike is an older model than the shop usually sees, and Din will have to put in an order with one of Boba’s suppliers. And late as it is, earliest the shop is likely to see the part come in is a couple of days.

Luke sighs, like he expected as much.

“It was my dad’s,” he says, this odd smile on his face, something that tells Din it’s better not to ask after that little tidbit Luke offered up. “I’ve been through this before.”

Din nods as he orders the part and ticks the box for fastest delivery method without stopping to think about it. Thinks Luke would appreciate it, and doesn’t bother wondering what Boba would have to say about it.

After that it’s a matter of squaring away the paperwork so Boba or whoever is in the next day can pick up where Din left off. So of course Din drops the pen he’s using,. Put the damn thing down for a second while he grabbed a copy of the paperwork for Luke from the printer tray and fumbled it right off the counter when he reached for it.

“Dammit,” he mutters, ignoring the quiet huff of amusement from Luke as he bends down to pick the pen up.

When he straights up, Luke is - 

“Uh,” Din says, because Luke is right there.

As in, _right there_.

Leaning against the counter, smile on his face and for some reason Din is just now noticing how very, very blue his eyes are.

“Hey,” Luke says, and Din’s sure – mostly sure – Luke’s just being friendly. Normal, every day, pass someone on the street friendly. Not... _friendly_. “I wanted to thank you for, you know. Everything.”

Luke looks down at himself, at the eye-searing orange of the coveralls one of Boba’s people left in the shop. Possibly _because_ it’s that eye-searing orange. He laughs, runs his thumb over the darker shade of orange where a name patch used to be. 

He looks back up and gives Din this smile, little bit crooked. “Thanks for not kicking me out.”

Din cannot word.

He knows what they are, vaguely. Understands that Luke used some just now, but Din himself cannot word.

Somewhere in between hauling his bike through the storm – almost a mile, if Luke got the landmarks right when he told Din what happened – and warming up (thawing out), Luke’s gotten. 

Not bold, really, just. 

_Something._

Something different about him Din can’t quite pin down.

 _Trouble_ , this little voice in the back of Din’s head murmurs. _Luke looks like trouble._

Luke’s crooked little smile widens, like he knows what Din’s thinking. It emphasizes his dimples, and the pen in Din’s hand creaks. Makes the sound of stressed plastic, Din’s gaze snapping down to where he sees his own hand clutching the poor pen in a white-knuckled grip. There’s a crack running through the clear plastic, and Din can’t remember if it was there before he dropped it or he put it there afterward.

“Um,” Luke says, concern back in his voice, and oh, great, he’s noticed too.

Din takes a deep breath and makes himself loosen his grip on the pen. He exhales, setting the pen down gently before he breaks it further.

“Did I say something wrong?” Luke asks, eyes on Din. He’s concerned, Din realizes, but the concern isn’t for himself. It’s for Din, the idiot who nearly snapped a pen in half because someone smiled at him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Maybe Cara’s right about Din getting out more, going on dates if this is his reaction to a simple smile and friendly behavior.

“You didn’t,” Din says, and waves a hand vaguely. “It’s just. Muscle spasm.”

Din’s told worse lies in his life. He must have.

Luke frowns, but he lets Din have his terrible lie. Glances at the clock and winces. “Oh, man,” he says. “I didn’t think it was so late.”

Din follows his gaze and realizes they’re an hour past the shop’s closing time, dark skies from the storm giving way to true night. What little traffic there was due to the storm is virtually non-existent now, which makes Din look back at Luke, who's pulled out his phone and is in the process of texting someone.

“Do you have a ride?” he asks. 

He remembers Luke mentioning he’s new in town when he was getting the usual information for his paperwork. Strange laugh and easy shrug, and Din knows the buses stop running early in this part of town. 

The shop doesn’t have an official courtesy shuttle service, but there’s usually someone around who can drive customers who need it where they need to go if they’re not insufferable.

It’s just the two of them in the shop, but it’s an hour past closing and still storming outside. Forecasts say it won’t clear up until the weekend, and Din would have to be a complete asshole to lock up and leave Luke to fend for himself.

He drives a minivan for God’s sake, more than enough room for a passenger. Luke’s been many things since he showed up, insufferable isn’t one of them.

Luke looks up from his phone.

“What? Oh, no, I’ll be fine. I’m staying with a friend, just texted him to see if he can pick me up.” He smiles again, but it’s distracted. “But if he’s out, I can call a cab or a risdeshare. I’ll be fine.”

Maybe, Din knows. And it’s not like the bike’s in a rough part of town, a few blocks over maybe, but it’s not somewhere they have to worry about break-ins or being mugged on the street. 

Still.

Din doesn’t like the idea of leaving Luke alone to wait for his ride to pick him up.

“Okay,” he says, when he can see Luke gearing up to reassure Din that really, no, he’ll be fine waiting in the dark on a stormy night for his ride. “Well, I have to lock up, so why don’t we do this. If you don’t get a text back from your friend by the time I’m done, I can give you a ride back.

Luke looks like he’s about to give Din another polite denial, which he does get. They don’t know one another, and Din could be some kind of lunatic. 

“Think about it,” Din says, and goes in the back to make sure everything's sorted back there before he deals with garage itself.

He can hear Luke moving around in the front of the shop, pacing by the sound of it. Low murmur of his voice that makes for nice background noise as he works.

The shop’s never squeaky clean, too many people working on machines in at any given time to have it stay like that, but there’s an ordered clutter to it that’s become familiar. Easy to tell who’s been there last with what they leave behind, how they do it.

Mayfeld’s been in town recently, gloves and a snap-back hat with a logo for a band Din’s never heard of. One of Boba’s wandering mechanics who never seems to settle anywhere. Spent the last few months bouncing between here and Peli’s garage out west, last Din heard.

Bits and pieces of other people’s life tucked away for them to collect later if they still need them, and over the back of Bob’s chair is Cobb’s jacket, battered and worn like its owner, and half as subtle.

Din shakes his head at it, them, and does a quick walk-through the garage to make sure everything in order there. 

Several bikes in various stages of repair. What looks like a homemade go-cart taking shape in a back corner. For someone’s kid or a kid at heart, no way of knowing. A dozen other familiar sights Din’s gotten used to seeing around the shop and nothing out of place.

When he heads back into the office area, Luke looks up at him, crooked smile back on his face.

“No luck?” 

Luke thinks for a minute before he answers, worries his bottom lip between his teeth absently, and huffs out a laugh. “No,” he says. “I think he might be over at his, uh. _Friend’s_ place to wait out the storm.”

Din looks at Luke.

Luke fidgets, color hitting his cheeks as he ducks his head and pretends to check his phone for messages he’s likely not going to get tonight.

Din tries not to be charmed by it, by Luke. 

“Hm.”

Din deals with the computers and register, makes sure to leave a note for whoever is in first thing about the situation with Luke’s bike, the handful of customers he handled before him.

And when he’s done with that, he meets Luke’s eyes, tips his head. “Need a ride somewhere?”

Even though it’s clear he does, Luke still tries to polite his way out of it, doesn’t want to inconvenience Din, put him out after everything else. If anything, it just makes Din want to help him that much more, rare when they get a customer here who doesn’t expect them to drop everything to see to their needs.

“I mean,” Luke says, and shrugs, eyes sliding away from Din’s for a moment. He laughs, tired, kind of done with everything for the day. “If you don’t mind?”

Din doesn’t.

Should feel a little guilty at how much he doesn’t mind, actually. 

“Wouldn't have offered if I did,” Din points out, feels the corner of his mouth kick up into a faint smile at the look Luke gives him. “You ready to go?”

========

Turns out Luke’s friend lives in the opposite direction Din does, which he’s careful not to mention. Doesn’t want Luke feeling guilty of all things over something he can’t control.

And anyway, it’s not as though it’s a hardship. 

There’s not much in the way of small-talk on the way, both of them too tired to bother, but it’s not an awkward silence between them either. 

It occurs to Din a few minutes out that with Luke being new to the city he might not know about regular spots where traffic gets bad, ugly, during busier hours. Thinks about it for a moment before he decides the hell with it and points out the ones they pass. 

Tells Luke about about the construction work downtown that’s likely never going to end, budget conflicts and contract issues and general bullshit that happens when too many people have opinions and no common sense.

Lets him know about the half-hearted bike rally that happens every spring when the threat of snow is behind them.

Luke perks up a little at that, asks questions about it, and Din’s happy to tell him the name of the organization behind it, their website so he can get answers for the questions Din doesn’t know.

Raises an eyebrow when Luke mentions some friends from ‘back home’ who are into bikes who have been making noises about coming out to see him. Might time it to coincide with the bike rally if it's something that appeals to them.

“Yeah?” Din asks, curious at how vague Luke is about his friends, cagey. Like there’s a whole other story to it he’d rather not get into, and it’s. Interesting. Very, very interesting. “Boba – he’s the owner of the shop – knows the people who run the rally. He’d be able to put you in touch with them.”

Din doesn’t push the idea past that, just gives Luke the information to do whatever he wants with it, and then bitches about the lights of the intersection they’ve been siting at for a couple of minutes. Longest damn lights Din’s ever seen, and Luke’s laughing at him over it by the end of it.

Joke’s on him, though, because they wait another three minutes before the damn light turns green, and they’re the only car in sight for miles.

========

Luke’s friend lives in at the edge of town at the end of a dead-end street. Only house down it, small ravine and wooded area with what sounds like a creek on one side and a decent sized yard that’s taken up with a garden and fruit trees on the other.

The lights to the house are off, making the place seem even more isolated.

“What can I say, Ben likes his privacy,” Luke says, fondness for this Ben evident in his voice, the soft smile on his face, at Din’s look.

Din can see that, yeah.

“You’re sure you’re good?” Din asks, and Luke laughs. Shakes his keys a little.

“I’m fine,” he says. “I even remembered my keys this time so I won’t have to break in again.”

That's...Din’s going to pretend he didn’t hear that for now. Plausible deniability and all.

Still, though. Luke doesn’t get out right away, the two of them watching the rain coming down outside, hear it hitting the roof of Din’s minivan.

“I don’t think I was prepared for how much it rains here,” Luke says, more of an observation than a complaint. Now, anyway. Din’s sure Luke might have a change of heart after a solid week of this. “It’s kind of nice.”

It can be, sure, as long as you’re not out in it.

Luke sighs, sliding a look at Din, because he is going to be out in it. For a few minutes anyway.

“Thanks again,” Luke says, entirely heartfelt. “For everything.”

Din’s more grateful than he can say for the dim lighting of the minivan's dashboard because he knows he’s blushing. 

He might have helped Luke out at first due to common decency, but somewhere along the way that changed on him, went sideways fast.

“Uh, yeah, no problem,” he manages, sounding like an idiot, but it doesn’t seem to bother Luke at all.

He catches a flash of Luke’s smile from the corner of his eye, something off about it Din can’t pin down, and then Luke’s opening his door, the sound of rainfall almost deafening.

“Well, this is it,” he says, and with a laugh slides out of the minivan and makes a dash for the front door of the house.

Din waits until Luke gets the door unlocked and the lights come on before he turns the minivan back on, looks up to check that he’s good - 

Luke’s looking back at him, a smile on his face as he gives Din another two-finger salute before he vanishes into the house.

“Idiot,” Din mutters as he backs the minivan out of the driveway, not sure if he’s talking about Luke or himself.

========

It isn’t until much later, Grogu fed and asleep, that it occurs to Din there was a moment there, he’s sure, that Luke was waiting for something. Maybe for Din to give him his number, and Din completely missed the opportunity.

Which.

“Idiot,” Din says again, and this time there's no doubt who he’s talking about.

Yeah, fine. Typical for him, really. Another missed chance, one he knows is going to haunt him thanks to Luke’s blue, blue eyes and amazing smile and just. It’s going to stick with him, this one, and he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it because he has the feeling it could have been something good.


End file.
